


Devils don't fly

by DaydreamInColor (redlipsredledger), redlipsredledger



Category: Marvel, Marvel (Comics), Marvel 616, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Brief Laura Barton, Canon Compliant, Canonical Character Death, Clint Barton Feels, Clint divorces his wife, Divorce, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Kate Bishop introduction!, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-11-19
Updated: 2019-11-22
Packaged: 2021-02-13 10:29:56
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,457
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21492853
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/redlipsredledger/pseuds/DaydreamInColor, https://archiveofourown.org/users/redlipsredledger/pseuds/redlipsredledger
Summary: In the aftermath of Natasha's death, Clint realises and few things and in a crappy little apartment in Bed Stuy, he meets a girl that gives him a new purpose in life: To be a mentor. Kate gives him back the strength he needs to do the thing he thinks is impossible: Bring the woman he loves back from the dead.First part is a bit of a first person in Clint's perspective. Idek how good this'll be. Hit me up with feedback if you read!
Relationships: Clint Barton & Natasha Romanov, Clint Barton/Natasha Romanov, natasha romanov/clint barton
Comments: 9
Kudos: 9





	1. I got chains and you got wings

Do you know what death is like? It's a strange question to ask, but do you know? Do you know how it feels to die? Let me tell you how it feels to die: 

First of all, you should know I'm alive and still breathing, my heart still beats away in my chest and I still walk the earth but I'm not me, not anymore. Death comes in many, many forms. Death can occur while you're still alive, death can happen to you in the moment where your heart just breaks. It shatters. There's nothing. Nothing inside of you that wants to fight anymore and that's how I died; I knew there was nothing left inside of me that wanted to fight anymore. It didn't matter. I couldn't find the strength that got me through all these years. I felt something inside of me just leave and there became an empty space all over again. The space that I thought I'd filled with distractions, with family, with SHIELD, with work.

The space that I thought I'd filled with every damn thing on the planet but I didn't realise that the thing that filled that hole inside of me was her. I didn't realise that the part of the world that held me together was her. Told myself a pretty lie for years, told myself that I didn't fall in love with my best friend but I'm a goddamn liar. I'm a spy; we're paid to lie but we're not supposed to be that good at lying to ourselves. We're supposed to draw a line.

I sat there, I sat there and I watched the world end. I knew that I had something to go back to, something that I was trying to achieve but what the hell did it even matter anymore? I fought for years, lost myself and let myself become a monster and she looked at me that day like I was still human. She came to save me and I told her not to give me hope.

Didn't realise she _was _my hope.

I watched her draw her last breath and I couldn't breathe. I watched her fall and I knew that everything I was fell with her. I was supposed to fight but what did I even have left to fight for? She let me live a life for years. She protected me, cared about me, fought for me, went through hell for me and I didn't realise all that time that I love her.

_Loved._ I loved her. It's too late now.

I just wish I'd realised it before I lost her for good.

* * *

He sat there and he just stared into space. The cold, damp grass beneath him didn't even register as being there anymore and he sat there and stared into space like he refused to believe the world would keep on turning. How could the world keep on turning? How could life go on? He looked back at the house and he knew that it wasn't home for him anymore; he'd been staying at an apartment he'd rented in Bed Stuy, he didn't want to even be here but he had to come and pick up some of his things. He'd only took probably a weeks worth of clothes and people were starting to ask questions.

He didn't know what the hell to say to them but they were starting to ask questions.

The world just didn't seem the same anymore; Tony, Natasha... He hadn't realised just how much they made his life what it was. Tony... Hell he hadn't even thought he'd liked him all that much but Natasha? Oh, Natasha made his life what it was for goddamn years. She kept telling him how he'd saved her but she didn't realise she'd saved him, too.

Now he was slipping again and there was no one to hold him back this time.

He kept reminding himself what had been said on Boromir, not by her but by the son of a bitch that held the stone. 

_First you must lose that which you love most._

He loved her. For her sacrifice to work, he had to love her. Ha. It was... God, that must have made it worse.

He heard footsteps behind him, the shuffle of the grass and his wife - ex wife - stood there with her arms holding together a jacket around her; there was a breeze tonight and he guessed that it was cold. She seemed to be acting like it was cold. His grey eyes cast back at her over his shoulder.

"Are you ever going to come back?" She questioned softly. She looked sad.

He felt bad for her, he really did. Clint shook his head anyway. No. No he wasn't.

"I filed papers this morning. You should get them in the next few days." He didn't mean to sound so cold.

Truly, he did not mean to sound so cold; she'd given him years of her life and he wished that it was enough but it just wasn't. Divorce was the best option for both of them; he knew that there was no going back, hell he wasn't even the same person as he had been before all of this. Ronin felt more familiar to him now than being here with her. Ronin felt more like who he really was than being her husband did.

Ronin. He still had the blade back at his place. Sometimes - more than he liked - he considered going back. Going back to that, going back to the anger and the blood and... Well, anything or anywhere but here.

Here wasn't where he wanted to be anymore.

He watched the devastation on her face and she took a step back, well it was more of a stagger if he was going to be honest with himself. She put her hand on her heart and her breath hitched in her throat, the tears that sprung to her eyes made him wish he was a good enough man to comfort her. He might have been once but that wasn't true anymore. How could he comfort her with a lie?

He'd thought losing her had killed him, until Natasha died he had no idea what real death was. Real death was watching the truest thing you've ever had died. 

"The kids--" She started to say but he stood up.

He stood up and he shook his head.

"Don't do that. Don't use that. I'm not who I was and you need to get that; Five years changed everything for me and I realised then that I sacrificed more than just losing my family. I sacrificed my friends. They're my family, too. They needed me and I wasn't there because I was an asshole who took the easy option. I took house arrest. I should've done what she did and stuck by the people that needed me to fight, too." He was snapping. Breaking. 

The calmness in his voice was simply slipping away and anger replaced it blazing hot and fast. It was like fire spreading through his soul.

"You had people you cared about _here._ We needed you." She replied weakly.

"No, you needed me to be whatever you wanted me to be. You didn't need me to be me. You needed me to drop everything I was and just be here. Do this. Be the goddamn stay at home husband who what? Got a job doing carpentry? That was never me, Laura. It was never gonna be me. She knew exactly who I was. She didn't ever ask me to change." There were breaks in his voice now.

God, he missed her so much.

"Natasha cared about you." Laura conceded. 

Cared. It was more than that. It was so much more.

"Do you know what that son of a bitch told me when I went to get that stone? First you must lose that which you love most. I wouldn't have gotten that damn thing if it wasn't-- If it was just that she _cared _about me, I wouldn't have gotten it. If I didn't love her, I wouldn't have gotten it." He was seething.

Completely, utterly seething.

"I loved her. I goddamn loved her." She didn't understand.

She'd never understand and he knew it. She'd never understand what he and Natasha had, or what they'd been through together or even half of what she meant to him. He'd tried his best to act like it was nothing. He'd tried so hard to act like it was just friends. He'd tried so hard to act like she was just his best friend and he'd thought he could live like that because he had this here.

But this here wasn't who he was and it hadn't been who he was for a long time.

"No matter what I wouldn't have been able to stay here. This isn't who I am anymore. When I did what I did, when I killed all those people just for the hell of it, it changed me. I wasn't who you knew anymore then, but when I lost her? I lost the last remnants of whatever pretense I thought I could hold onto." If she wanted to hate him, so be it.

He'd rather be hated than live a lie.

"Whatever we were, it changed. Whatever we were changed when half the world died and I murdered people. I'm not the person I was before all of that and I was stupid to think I could just turn back and it'd all be okay. It won't be okay. _I _won't be okay. Whatever this is? Whatever I was? It's done. We're done." They had to be.

"So that's just it? We're over after all these years? With all we've been through, with all the years we've been-- We're just done? You decide you're in love with your dead best friend and you walk away from your marriage?" He hadn't heard her shout in years.

She rarely ever did. She was always calm. He had never been sure if he loved or loathed that.

"Yeah. That's just it. You can stand there and act like what she was to me doesn't matter to save your own feelings but don't you dare act like I can just move on. I won't go back to living a lie, Laura. I won't lie. I won't pretend we're gonna be okay because we're not. I stopped being who I needed to be and I compromised myself; I need to not be here. I'll see the kids, I'll pay child support and alimony but I won't live a goddamn lie." He couldn't bring himself to do that.

"I don't love you, not anymore. I'm not saying I never did I just-- I don't. Not now. Too much has changed. I've changed. I can't go back to who I was before all of this; that person - that part of me - doesn't exist anymore. This is _over, _Laura. I'm sorry."

He moved then, walking past her and he made his way to his car. There was no way back. He wasn't going to go back to the life that he had before because there was nothing, nothing here that he could fight for anymore when he'd stopped being the person that belonged here five years ago. His best friend had died.

Tony had died.

There was nothing here and nothing in him that was who he'd been before.


	2. We just keep on fighting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Barton meets Kate Bishop and decides that maybe mentoring this arrogant new hero might just be what he needs. He's fully aware of the fact that he needs something to throw his energy into and maybe this will clear his mind enough for him to find a way through his grief and focus on what really matters: Bringing Natasha home.

Okay he wasn't the kind of guy that really sat there and watched the news, he flicked through the cable channels until he came across some random TV show he could watch or some lame movie or another but he rarely watched the news; in truth he hated the fact that it just talked about all of the bad things in the world, the things that he'd been unable to prevent and lately all the news seemed to talk about was the death of the Great Tony Stark and how Natasha Romanoff - who had devoted her life to The Avengers - had died a hero to save others.

And of course about The Snap. That was what they were calling it. There were still memorials up all over the world that no one knew what to do with now and millions of people that were now displaced with lives of their own to relearn.

Tonight though, Clint Barton watched the news with a sort of incredulous interest because - while he'd been walking around his kitchen heating up last nights pizza - he'd learned that someone out there had stolen his name. There was apparently a new Hawkeye and that had him cast his eyes down at himself.

"Well, there ain't nothing wrong with the old one!" He muttered grumpily.

Needless to say he was going to end up trying to figure out who this Hawkeye imposter was and why the hell they'd stolen his mantle. Great. Tonight was supposed to be a night where he was going to waste it with booze and bad TV; Rambo was on and he fully intended to get lost in 80's nostalgia but apparently life indeed had other plans. He didn't even bother with his outfit, he donned on jeans and a hoodie and left his small Bed Stuy apartment and decided to 'patrol' the city the good old fashioned way in the hopes of running into his wannabe replacement.

Psh. He didn't need replacing. That was what Laura wanted. She wanted him to quit.

Clint was _not _going to quit.

It had been a hell of a long time since he'd done the whole parkour thing over rooftops but he was by no means past his ability to do so. After stopping a mugging or two, bumping into a few costumed newbies that really didn't seem to know what they were doing and so he'd had to help them out and a quick Hello from Peter, he'd come across a figure stood at the edge of a rooftop with a bow and Clint studied the shadowed figure.

He - or she - had their back to him, at least until he purposely landed loudly enough to draw attention and then the New Hawkeye turned to look at him and Clint studied _her. _It was a girl. He rose a brow and stepped forward to study her gear; it wasn't half bad actually. Her stance was good, a little off and if she didn't lower her elbow she was going to wind up pulling a muscle and her stance could use some work, but she held herself well.

"So, you wanna explain why you're running around the city stealing my colors and my name?" Barton stood straight, folding his arms across his chest.

The girl studied him and she lowered her weapon, rolling her eyes at him as she huffed out a sigh and Clint couldn't help but laugh.

She walked toward him, studying the older man and she shrugged her shoulders.

She looked so goddamn young; she was definitely not 18 yet and she was small framed in a way that made her look breakable and yet athletic at the same time; needless to say he was worried that this life was going to turn out bad for her. She had dark hair and dark eyes but a fierce determination danced there along with a clear sense of mischief that almost made him want to roll his eyes.

He had to fight the fatherly part of him that wanted to tell her this was no place for a kid and that she ought to go home before she got really hurt. It could happen so goddamn easily in a life like this.

"You're older than I thought you'd be." She stated simply.

"And you haven't answered my question." Clint replied.

"Kate Bishop AKA The Cooler Hawkeye." She sounded arrogant, overly confident even.

Clint rolled his eyes at the girl.

"Pretty sure the mutual introduction isn't necessary, you clearly know who I am." There was no need for him to explain.

She clearly knew who he was if she was running around under his mantle. Kate Bishop offered Clint Barton what he could swear was an honest to God smile. Ha, maybe there was an actual person beneath that bravado! She didn't seem so bad. There were worse people that could be claiming his title. She was young though, young and reckless and he wondered if there really was any idea at all that this girl knew what she was getting herself into. 

"No, I know who you are. I got told you'd retired and ya know, the world needs Hawkeye." 

Clint winced then. He shook his head.

"No, not retired, far from it actually." There was no way in hell he was down and out.

There was no goddamn way he was going to give in and retire. Natasha deserved better than him ducking his head like some kind of coward and living out his days in quiet seclusion. She hadn't had the chance to bow out. She hadn't had the chance for that normal life. He'd be damned if he was going to live it off of her back. If it wasn't for her, none of this goddamn world would be anything close to back to normal.

At least as normal as this world got anyway.

"Did you dust with Thanos's snap or?" He had to ask.

She shook her head though. 

"Nope. I knew people that did but not me." She turned to look at the city again.

Clint let out a small sigh. 

"Why are you doing this, Kate Bishop?" 

"Because you're an icon. You inspired me. You inspired me to wanna save the world. You showed everyone that an average guy could face down Aliens and robots and go toe to toe with heroes and Gods and you showed the world that Superpowers and cool gadgets weren't the only thing that made you able to save the world. You and Black Widow? You changed the perception of what it takes to be a hero."

Clint felt a little proud then, sad but proud. He and Natasha had made people like her believe in themselves and he was glad for that but this was a dangerous world and sometimes you paid the ultimate price to save it. Natasha was proof of that.

"And now Natasha is dead. You need to understand this hero gig? It costs you everything. You're just a kid, Kate. Go back to being a kid."

She didn't seem happy at that; she let out a short and humorless laugh. He really had no goddamn idea; she wasn't just some kid. She was a kid that knew far too much and had seen far too many bad people do far too much damage to want to go back to being _just a kid._ She'd watched monsters profit from death and destruction. She'd watched monsters profit from weapons and drugs and... Well, those kinds of people had made her want to change the world.

That kind of thing had made her look to people like Clint Barton and know that she could make a difference, too.

"Oh hell no! I've seen too much bad things in my life to just walk away and go back to being some average girl; if you're so worried about me being _just a kid? _Teach me. Train me. Let me work _with _you because you said you're not retiring and I'm not going to walk back to being some girl that's oblivious to what's going on in the world. I won't walk away. You wouldn't. This world needs heroes, this world needs _Hope_ and I'm not going to just walk away. Screw that."

She was determined he had to give her that. She was maybe the kind of hero this world needed, the one that'd fight no matter the odds. The kind that he'd been once upon a time. The kind that he'd known would - and could - make a real difference in the world because he had. He had made a damn difference. He had made a damn difference and he had no interest in just walking away from that and it seemed neither did she.

"What would you have done if someone had told you to walk away? If someone said to you you're just some average guy, sit it out and go home?"

She sounded fierce; he had to admire her determination.

"I'd have said what I should have done all along: Screw you, I'll fight anyway." He conceded. He shook his head then.

"Then screw you, Clint Barton. I'll fight no matter what you say."

He had to laugh at that, how could he not? She was someone that clearly knew what she believed in and she'd fight for that; she reminded him so much of himself when he was younger but that fierce determination to do it anyway despite being told no? That reminded him of Natasha.

"Then I guess I'm gonna help you." In truth, he'd be glad just to have something to throw himself into.

Kate seemed quite happy with that because a grin spread across her features.

"Thank you." See? That went quite well.

She could see though that happy was something that Clint Barton most definitely was not. Her expression softened and she sighed.

"I'm sorry about Natasha, Clint." It was no secret how close the two of them had been.

Best friends. She knew that but then everyone did; she had a feeling that Natasha's death would hit Clint the hardest but she also had a feeling that it was a battle he was fighting alone which was concerning; Hawkeye was married. Everyone knew that now, too. So much had come out in the aftermath of The Snap.

"Alright, I'm gonna head back to my place 'cause I'm missing a Rambo marathon and pizza that I'd love to get back to sometime tonight but why don't you swing by tomorrow and we'll go over basics? I'll text you my address if you shoot me your details?" Clint shrugged.

He was always bad at this stuff.

"Won't your wife mind you inviting some random person over?"

"We're getting a divorce; I have an apartment in Bed Stuy." Clint shrugged. He said it so casually that it threw her off guard.

"Oh, I'm sorry..." She felt awkward; she had no idea what to say.

What did one say to a man going through a divorce after his best friend died?

"Don't be. It's what I want. It's for the best."

He didn't seem upset about it which she supposed was a good thing. If it was what he needed then all she could do was hope that he did indeed know what he was doing. No one needed him going off of the deep end. He held out his phone to her and she put in her details and handed him it back with a smile.

"Alright, well I guess I'll see you tomorrow old man."

Clint let out a small laugh. He had a feeling he was going to enjoy working with this girl very much; she was just the kind of fresh face and new energy that he needed in his life. Kate would give him something to focus on and maybe - maybe, but he doubted it - in time, he'd heal. At least a little bit.

He wasn't done yet trying to find a way to save Natasha and bring her home though.

She'd do it for him.


	3. Maybe I just fight 'cause I don't know where I belong

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After a quick training session with Kate, Clint finds himself face to face with Wanda who informs him that she, too, wasn't willing to let this whole death-thing be the end of the people they love.

Bright and early, Kate Bishop showed up at Clint Barton's apartment and he shot her a glare as he answered his door in his PJ's, rubbing his tired eyes as he studied the girl who - he decided - was way too bright eyed for this early in the morning.

"Coffee. I need coff--" He didn't get the chance to finish before she shoved a cup into his hand.

"I picked some up on the way over, bagels too."

He still glowered at her but it subsided a little. He threw open the door anyway. He was tired, but then lately he was always tired; he didn't sleep all that well these days but then all he saw when he closed his eyes was Natasha falling and him failing to stop her. Goddammit, it was nothing short of torture. Clint allowed his eyes to drop to his feet and sighed. Kate seemed to sense the shift in his attitude immediately.

She was more observant than Clint had given her credit for. She placed her hand on his shoulder. 

"Hey if you want me to go?" She offered. 

He shook his head though. She was fine to stick around, it'd give him a welcome distraction if he was going to be honest and God knew he needed that more than he wanted to admit. Clint Barton was a man that was lost. He had absolutely no purpose and he sure as hell didn't want to go back to the compound and face whatever was left of their 'family' because it felt too broken and too fractured. 

It just made it worse for him. 

"Naw, stay. It ain't like I have anything else to focus on honestly." He admitted with a soft shrug of his shoulders.

"Besides, if I'm gonna train you? I gotta get to know who you are."

And while Clint wasn't good at that part? He had to get to know this girl if he was going to end up training her and trusting her to work alongside him; she was asking for him to trust her and let her work with him so, getting to know her and making sure she was in a better position to keep herself alive seemed kind of important. He didn't want to lose anyone else.

"Alright well, breakfast first?"

Clint laughed and nodded at her question.

"Yep, breakfast and at least _two _cups of coffee." Hell, he needed it.

He was pretty reliant on it, not that he'd admit it. It was obvious enough without him sitting there all intervention-like with that whole _Hi, I'm Clint and I have a coffee dependency._ Well, actually caffeine dependency if he was going to be specific about it. It got him through the days though so it wasn't all that bad he supposed. There were worse things after all.

"Y'know, you may well end up having a heart attack if you keep that up." She rose a brow as she walked inside.

Clint Barton rolled his eyes at her as he closed the door.

"Pft, you just worry about not tearing your shoulder muscles holding your arm up too high when you fire and let me worry about my caffeine problem." Or lack thereof in his view.

She let out a small laugh. She could definitely tell Clint was a father and she was willing to bet he was a damn good one. She wasn't going to ask questions though, his impending divorce may not be something he wanted to discuss and she didn't know him well enough yet to ask him about it. He looked back at Kate as he brought the cup of coffee to his lips and gestured for her to sit down.

"So, tell me what makes a teenage girl wanna pick up a bow, a name and go out into the city wanting to take down bad guys." 

It was an interesting question to say the very least. Clint studied her as she huffed out a sigh and sat down. A sort of sad look crossed her features and she shifted, tugging at the bottom of her sleeves with her hand.

"You don't have to tell me..." Clint spoke softly, offering the girl a smile.

"No, I do." Kate inhaled a deep breath.

"Well, my dad is Derek Bishop, publishing Magnate and all around asshole; my mom died when I was a kid and my sister is a huge bitch so, I've spent pretty much all my life alone. I've watched bad people - like my dad - profit off of the misfortune of others and when I saw your heroics when I was younger? You gave me someone to look up to. You stopped one of those alien sons of bitches from killing me. I thought you were the _coolest _guy in the whole world. I saw the world around me shifting and changing and becoming more and more dangerous and you?"

She flicked her eyes to Clint, offering him a small smile.

"You were still stood there in the thick of it all fighting like it didn't matter that you were just an ordinary guy. I wanted to be like you because all I'd seen before that was people who just wanted to take advantage of the world but not you. You wanted to save it no matter what it meant for you and I swear I just... I thought that was the coolest thing in the world and then I was attacked and it just-- Being a hero felt right. There needs to be more _good _out there in the world because we're both more than familiar with the bad."

Kate was tugging away at the ends of her sleeves again, Clint sat down beside her and released a small sigh as he nodded his head.

"I get it." Clint spoke softly.

"I get why you wanna do this." He reached over to squeeze her shoulder.

She was just like him, a kid out there in the world that had seen more than enough bad pass them by to want to do anything besides make a difference. She had fought and fought like hell to do the right thing - just as he had - even with all of the odds facing her. He admired that; she had come from what he could guess was a privileged background which was a far cry from his orphaned self, but Kate hadn't allowed that to ruin her humanity or change the good she wanted to do in the world. That? That was admirable.

That reminded him of Tony.

"You're joining a hell of a legacy, Kate Bishop." Clint inhaled a deep breath.

"And we're gonna _share_ that name, I'm not ready to be replaced just yet." He smirked playfully.

Kate nodded her head and laughed.

***********

A day of training - it turned out - made Clint feel more normal than anything else had in a while and that was something he was appreciative of; he'd gotten a text off of Laura telling him that she'd gotten the divorce papers and that she wanted to talk this weekend to make sure that this was what he wanted and to see if she could change his mind; he'd told her of course that it was useless though he hadn't been cold enough to do that over text message; he'd called her and let her know that he'd come by and see the kids this weekend, but he didn't want to talk about anything else.

He'd told her that there was no use in talking about it because _nothing_ could change his mind; he did love her in his own little way because she was the mother of his children, he'd told her that he'd always care about her but that was it: He'd care. He didn't love her, not the way that he loved Natasha. He didn't love her in the way that he'd thought he had because now, now the world had crashed and burned and Clint saw everything for what it was.

Trust it to be when it was probably too late, or when it was too late. It was. She was dead.

Dead was dead, that's what people kept telling him: There was no way to bring her back.

They didn't see it though, they weren't there; they hadn't watched her die and they hadn't watched the world fall apart around them. They hadn't been desperate to save someone that just wouldn't let themselves be saved because she'd sacrificed herself for _him. _She'd given up her life in his place because she didn't want him to be the one that paid the price. Natasha had never thought she was a hero.

He didn't tell her though that she'd saved him every damn day she'd been in his life. He hadn't told her that meeting her and fighting by her side had saved him more than anything else in the world had. She'd been his anchor, she'd been his best friend, his confidant, his... She'd saved his life in a more than literal sense. Goddammit, Natasha.

Goddammit. Why the hell did she do that?

He'd been avoiding pretty much everyone for weeks and it was no wonder, he couldn't deal with the pain and he couldn't face anyone else knowing that they were all moving on and he just _couldn't. _He couldn't move on because he didn't know how to be in a world that she wasn't in. He didn't know how the hell to do that. He made his way out toward the entrance of the facility; Kate had gotten picked up about an hour ago and Clint? He'd spent time just trying to blow off steam.

He didn't have any targets set up back at his place but then it wasn't like you could set any up in an apartment block in Bed Stuy with his slummy landlord. He didn't like the guy at all but he'd needed a place quick so it worked, it had to work. He turned though as he heard footsteps behind him.

Clint ran his hand down his face before he looked up at the approaching figure. Wanda shifted from one foot to the other, offering him a small, awkward wave with one hand as she kept the other stuffed into the back pocket of her jeans. She looked worried. Clint couldn't help but sigh.

"I didn't know you were here..." Wanda spoke softly, quietly.

She sounded so unsure and worried that it brought a soft look of concern and regret onto his features. He walked toward her and pulled her into a hug. She'd been through hell, too. She'd lost just as much as he had over the last few years. Wanda was all but alone in the world now.

She literally was whereas he only felt like he was. He'd promised to be there for her and he knew how that he was slacking _badly_ on that promise and that was _not_ who Clint Barton was. He didn't turn his back on someone he promised to help.

"I'm so sorry, kiddo." Clint whispered as he pulled out of the embrace.

"I didn't wanna say anything to anyone I was just-- things have been kinda rough." That was an understatement.

She offered him a gentle smile and nodded her head to show understanding. He knew she'd be able to relate more than almost anyone else.

"I am here for you too, you know." Wanda held his gaze.

"You said we're a team, that you were on my side..." she looked sad.

He hadn't been acting like they were a team at all. He'd shut himself off from _everyone_ and Wanda deserved better from him than that. Sokovia had been hell for both of them but it bound the two of them together and he'd promised she wouldn't be alone and yet she was now.

She had been for years because he'd made all the wrong choices. He'd made her a promise that he hadn't kept because he'd decided that house arrest and letting them fight without him was the right choice. Ha. How wrong he'd been. She'd been in the thick of it while he'd been a coward and sat out the battle because he knew that was what his wife had wanted from him; he'd given up on who he was because he'd believed that it was the right thing to do for other people but now as he stood here face to face with Wanda? He knew that he'd screwed up big time; he knew that Wanda had lost the one she loved just as he had. They shared mutual pain, little did she knew they too shared the death of a brother.

Clint never talked about that with anyone bar Natasha. Not even Laura knew.

"I know what you lost and I'm so sorry I wasn't there for you. Vis... Wanda I know I let you down _big _time but I hope like hell you can forgive me." He wouldn't blame her if she didn't.

Hell he wasn't even sure he could forgive himself. Wanda was kind, fierce as hell and she could hold her own in a fight but when he'd heard what she'd been through and he hadn't been there for her? That tore him apart in ways he couldn't even begin to explain. 

"I miss him." She admitted softly.

She inhaled a deep breath and turned her face away; he could tell she was fighting tears because he was still exactly the same when he tried to talk about what happened with Natasha that day. Natasha was... His best friend. His best friend and _so _much more. Wanda had never tried to fight her feelings but Clint on the other hand had been nothing short of a coward about his.

"We'll fix this." He promised resolutely.

He had no goddamn idea how, he had no goddamn idea if any of it was even _remotely _possible but he knew that they had to try. He knew that they had to do _something_, hell they had to do _anything_ besides let the people they loved stay dead. That wasn't an option. That would never, ever be a goddamn option. He couldn't lose her for good and it wasn't fair on Wanda to lose the person she loved, either. A smile spread across Wanda's features though that had Clint undeniably curious.

"I'm glad you said that." She flicked her eyes back to him.

He stared quizzically at her.

"I've been looking into it, if my powers--" He knew that they were practically limitless.

He hadn't even thought about it, if Wanda could find a way using her magic? Huh. The kid was smart. Magic could do so many goddamn things that none of them could even begin to understand; Stephen Strange and Wanda Maximoff were beings that they'd only scratched the surface of understanding. He knew not even she knew what she was capable of but it seemed like she damn well wanted to know.

"Alright well, I guess we've got a place to start."

And that? That was better than what he had this morning. Wanda? She looked happy as hell that _someone _was going to back her up with this.


End file.
